


What Is Whispered Behind Tall Doors

by RedThePear



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Madeleine Era, Montreuil-sur-Mer, Office Sex, m sur m era, porn with maybe too much plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 10:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12555084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedThePear/pseuds/RedThePear
Summary: Javert comes to the Mayor's office to ask for his dismissal. Behind the tall wooden doors of the room, he discovers that secrets can be kept and people can be different.





	What Is Whispered Behind Tall Doors

Javert was leaving.

He had decided so as he stepped into the Hôtel de Ville, filling the wooden hallways with the familiar creaking and clacking of his resolute walk. The employees of the building stared at him as he went. He held his head high, as usual. However, something felt off.

«Don't you think Javert's acting different today?»  
Administration workers whispered amongst themselves. The well-known figure of the Inspector, that had somehow imperceptibly changed, caused heated discussion that echoed from small offices around the main corridor.  
«Yes. It's strange. Looks like he's going to get some neck ache, being all stiff like that. It's not natural, you know? As if he were forcing himself to keep his head high.»  
«But he's always holding his head like this. Authority needs to look like authority, right?»  
«How should I know why it doesn't seem right? Today he looks like he'd be better off looking at the ground. Maybe something happened.»  
«But didn't you hear about what happened the other day?...»

Javert feigned surdity -or was he too absorbed in personal, deep and brooding thoughts?- and passed the cackling groups without a stare at them. He finally arrived at his destination,a large oak-panelled door. The hallway had by now enlarged into a doorless room of sorts. From its english green and gold wallpaper emanated something of faded glory, yawning authority.

A young clerk passed his bony fingers over the dirty white of an administration form, so focused in his this nameless piece of paper that his pale, nervous eyes did not see Javert standing in front of his rickety desk. The scratching of his quill was the only audible sound, and a cough from the Inspector quickly covered it. The man raised his head and fell back like a frightened mouse at the view of the tall shadow looming over him.

«Monsieur l'Inspecteur! I'm terribly sorry, I wasn't expecting-»  
«I have to see the Mayor. It is urgent.»  
«I do not know if he can, Monsieur, if you did not have a meeting arranged-»  
«I need to. It is of primordial importance.»

Javert's gaze burned without any pity on the poor young man. As impressed as he was, he managed, like his colleagues, to notice the change in the other's eyes. His natural authority was covered with a thin, but still perceptible, glaze of despair. He had never been like this. The clerk felt as if he had entered his heart of wood, and that a trickle of feelings was dripping from it. Feelings and the name of Javert seemed so incompatible that, confused and afraid by these terrible, glowing eyes, he gestured to the Inspector to enter.

Javert did not hesitate and strode through the tall doors silently, a hurricane in a black coat. The woolen fabric arose a gust of wind and papers fluttered from the desk to the floor. The clerk stayed in awe, as if frozen, not quite realizing what had just happened. The oak panels fell back into place with a dull boom. Silence came back, and the young man started to gather his fallen documents.

Meanwhile, the Inspector advanced in another corridor, that had this time the appearance of an antechamber. Some frames whose gold were peeling off sat on the walls, containing various, forgotten awards for forgotten names of the town notables. A heavy envelope of silence covered this nameless room. A silence almost religious, that hinted that some kind of punishment awaited anyone who would dare break it. 

A coat hanger waited in a dusty corner of the room. Javert stepped towards it and rid himself of the dark chrysalis of his coat and top hat. As he leaned forward to hang them, his feet touched an ancient floorboard whose creak echoed in the entire building, it seemed to him. He froze, petrified by a shame that made him unconsciously look like a guilty schoolboy. 

Javert rolled anxious eyes around him, as if to check that no flock of vengeful demons had appeared from the cracks in the ceiling. The schoolboy had disappeared. He was now acting like on a dangerous mission, behavior not less ridiculous if he had seen himself.  
The crusty bark of his heart was slowly splitting, it had been so since he had entered the building. Every step he took was a new blow to this barrier he had built around the animality of his passions, for with every step he took his pulse grew faster, heavier. In the silence of the room, he could hear his heart splintering to vulnerability. The creaking floorboard ruthlessly reminded him of it. Perhaps if he did not move, this agitation would leave him be.  
He carefully took away the sacrilegious foot and stepped back towards where he would not risk and break the silence once more. But there, he froze again. 

The Mayor's pepper-and salt head was passing through the study's large door. His blue gaze eyed the Inspector with anxious surprise. Finally he talked, in the soft tone that characterized him.  
«Inspecteur? What are you doing here?»  
Javert saluted jauntily, keeping his eyes from the other man's. His hoarse voice croaked the sentence he had been preparing all the way.  
«I have come to report the terrible behavior of an officer of the town, Monsieur le Maire.»  
It was better to get out of this silence, to get rid of all that threatened his restraint. The hallways, the gazes, and the Mayor’s blue eyes.

\---

Madeleine shook his head in gentle refusal.  
«It is a no, Javert. You will stay here.»  
He had listened to the Inspector's story and to his insistence with the attitude of a father towards his guilt-stricken son. The fears, the mad race of his mind when this terrible dark-clothed figure had shown itself on his doorstep had faded away. Now was some kind of warm tingling, a silken mixture of pity and endearment for this desperate man he felt he had never seen before.  
«Monsieur, I cannot stay here any longer. It would be a humiliation to me -a humiliation to you as well- if I did.»

The mayor stepped forward to him and took his hands in a solemn movement. He plunged his blue eyes into the steel-grey ones of Javert, with an authority that was not severity.  
«It could not possibly be a humiliation to anyone to have a man such as you in the service of justice, Inspector.»  
This voice -these eyes- this strong grasp on his bony hands were like a flash to Javert. It was too much, this terrible, cruel kindness. He could not go against this all. Something like a spark took off in his heart. Wooden hearts are not easily set ablaze, but when they are, it is a true bonfire.

He crushed Madeleine's hands in his and pressed his lips against the unaware man's.  
The kiss was to the mayor like being hit with white-hot iron. He staggered back under the force of Javert's assault and fell against the heavy, polished wooden desk of his study. The other man halted. He was heavily breathing, his face brushing against Madeleine's, his eyes burning with a suddenly released desire he had never known before nor could control. He seemed to plea with all his being to be allowed to be set free, like a caged wild animal bristled with energy. Something in these eyes reminded Madeleine of someone he had once been. Longing for freedom, full of the power of despair, ready to explode. This change had something irresistible for Madeleine. He found his own resistance to unknowingly break, and his mouth fumblingly reached up to Javert's.

The Inspector could not tear his eyes away from him. He was still gasping for air, and trembled like a wounded thing as he freed his hands from their grasp and raised them to the mayor's face. He started to caress awkwardly his temples, cheeks and his eyes, half-closed from a sudden torpor. 

Never had he seen Madeleine as beautiful as he was now, weakened by the blow of passion. His bulky form was languidly falling back onto the desk, but there was in this body abandoning itself a new power rising, a strength of desire that Javert could feel emanating from every inch of the Mayor's dropping form. He desperately wanted to taste this power, to share it with the other man. He closed his eyes and found Madeleine's lips again.

Everything was silent in the office. The weight of responsibility drains parasite noise from places of power. The two men could hear their desire in this terrible, thick silence. The brushing of fabric against fabric. Scattered breathing in staccato. The wooden wincing of the heavy desk, like a shameful reminder, that made blood rush to Madeleine and Javert's cheeks.

And the whispers. `

The mayor was slumped against the polished wood, only held back from falling flat on the board by Javert's arm entwined around his waist. The two were wrestling in a violent embrace, pulling each other against themselves. Madeleine had, with a pull of his hand, ripped the Inspector's hair ribbon off, and his dark mane was falling onto his face like velvet ropes. He ran his hand through this mane, losing himself in it, madly kissing Javert again and again.

Javert was raising the other man's face to his. He stroked the soft beard and hair in trembling reverence mixed with a flow of passion he still tried to contain. There was like an orb of fire blocking his breath, that stuck in his throat and frustrated him. His thighs pressed against Madeleine's, their bodies always brought closer by strong arms and gently persuading kisses. The rubbing of fabric and limbs made him soon realize that the mayor's groin was getting bigger against his leg. He blushed a deep red and halted for an instant, looking at Madeleine with bashful eyes.

The other man also took some time to realize his situation. He then uttered a small "ah!" and his blue eyes went wide with surprise and embarrassment. But that look made Javert lose once more all the control he had regained. This helplessness awakened the predator in him. He felt as he had many years ago, a day in Toulon, when he had gazed upon a muscular, savage, wretched man fighting against the sun and the pain in a quarry. Raw bestiality. Animal-like arousal. He pounced upon Madeleine with a snarl.

Javert's hands were moving on their own. He tore the mayor's cravat from his neck and yanked open his shirt, exposing a rough but entrancingly beautiful throat that heaved with every of Madeleine's gasps for air. Something in him moved. He wanted to taint this sculpture of a neck. He wanted to mark it as his own.  
Tentative lips pressed themselves to it. The inspector felt a flow of warmth overwhelm him, make him shiver with pleasure. He kissed his throat again. And again. And again. His kisses became rougher, longer, more bites than caresses, increasing with Madeleine's moans he could no longer suppress.

He had never heard the mayor like this. The deep, kind voice had become husky and cracked. It was the voice of someone else, not Monsieur Madeleine, but a wilder man, a being stripped of the appearance of the respected town official. This voice, these cries like a plea for more, were driving him mad. Javert had by then long realized he was as hard as Madeleine, and would not stop until he had gotten what he wanted. He continued to tear away at the mayor's shirt.

Every kiss he placed to his bare skin tightened the red-hot iron embrace of strong arms around him. Every bite he took at his neck increased the pressure of bulky thighs against his erection. He discovered himself moaning unwillingly, as well. He drowned them out by attaching lips and teeth to the mayor's quivering throat. 

Javert stood facing Madeleine's exposed chest now, the folds of white fabric thrust aside to reveal a body glistening with sweat and mapped with scars. He heaved himself up to contemplate this mass of muscle laying there, offered to him, vulnerable. He licked his lips. He was breathing as heavily as Madeleine, he realized. What a mess he had done with the mayor's beautiful neck. It was covered in kiss marks flowering like dark, lustful blossoms. It made him smile like a tiger. 

He still wanted more.

He had forgotten where they were. The tall windows were covered with curtains enough to hide the punishing glare of the sun. The tall oaken door would hide their cries.  
"Authority is amazing."  
It had escaped his mouth. Madeleine looked at him, his blue gaze cloudy with desire and incomprehension.  
"What did you say, Javert?"

The Inspector smiled and lowered himself again on top of him. He grinned and put his mouth to Madeleine's ear.  
"The higher-ups are amazing. You hide so much behind those tall, impressive doors of yours. Everyone here wonders. What is whispered behind there? What secrets? What dirty arrangements and deals? How is the merry dance of corruption going on in there?"  
He nibbled on his ear, letting out a sigh of pleasure at the man's whimper.  
"And then you arrive. Monsieur Madeleine, the mysterious man, the nearly saint-like figure, the holy benefactor the city needed but did not deserve. The man that had to be pleaded into taking the post."  
Javert paused again to trail his finger down the mayor's chest. How those muscles quivered at his touch. He felt he was going to explode.  
"Surely corruption must have disappeared, the tall doors opened. That is, Monsieur, what your loyal citizens whisper. And here we are. Monsieur Madeleine, the godly mayor, fucking on his desk with Inspector Javert."  
He laughed, a terrible laugh scattered with moans.  
"Dieu… this is absurd. What are we even doi-"

Madeleine's kiss and hand running through his hair cut his realizations short. He fell into the fumes of desire again. The man's mouth was hot, his tongue teased Javert, would not let go of his kisses. Javert reached for his own shirt buttons but the mayor instantly pushed his hands back on his waist and started to undress him, each fold of fabric pushed back punctuated with a kiss. Javert was confused. He suddenly realized why. 

Each of Madeleine's actions was full of love. Burning love, a love scorching by its mixture with desire, but nevertheless pure, raw loving. He was loved by the mayor. Or did the Mayor make love to everyone like this? Javert could not think straight. He just found that he could not imagine him to make love to anyone else but himself. The thought made him dive back onto the man with a deep satisfaction.

The two men were both bare-chested now, lying on the heavy desk that had been bared of all cumbersome paper. The noise a thick book had made upon falling to the ground had made them start and pause for a second. But no one heard what was happening behind the oak panels.

Javert slid his hand down Madeleine's chest and reached his trousers, brushing his fingers against the tight bulge between his thighs. He instantly moaned at the touch. The orb in Javert’s throat stirred and the heat in this stomach pulsed violently. He hesitantly wrapped his hand around the mayor’s cock and burned with desire at the sight of Madeleine shuddering and unconsciously grinding his hips into Javert’s fingers. Javert undid the other man’s trousers as he mouthed at his throat and brutally kissed out his whimpers of pleasure. His hands ran along Madeleine’s muscular hips and thighs and pressed them against the wood of the desk. He too was pressed, by the mayor who dug his fingers into his back and held him with all his gigantic strength. 

He could not repress the urge to whisper in Madeleine’s ear still, to see him go red with shame and bite at the redness of his ear.  
«Now, Monsieur, not so loud... Your subordinates could hear us. How surprised they would be to see you dirtying the place you worked so hard to clean of corruption.»  
«Javert, stop this,» Madeleine managed to utter between gasps. «Don’t talk.»  
He fumbled at Javert’s trousers and bared his aching prick and before the other man could realize it, his lips were on it and his hands gently yet firmly ran down the inspector’s hips. Javert could not repress his surprised moan. He went weak to the knees and almost lost his balance, but Madeleine turned him around to the desk where he dug his fingers, knuckles white from gripping the wood, his face red and glistening.

He wanted to keep on teasing the mayor, to tell him so, Monsieur, I come submissive before you and you end on your knees, but he could not utter anything other than whimpers and cries of pleasure. He ran one hand in Madeleine’s hair, pushing himself deeper in this hot, wet mouth that had been merciful in speech earlier, but was merciless now, driving him to animal desire. How could one be so cruel and so loving, he thought, glancing through half-shut lids at Madeleine’s soft red mouth and dazed, tender blue eyes. How could one be so obscene and yet so saintly.  
He wanted to thwart this saintliness, be the one to break this man, still surreal in the basest of acts. Break him like he had broken him. He grasped the mayor’s head with both hands and violently, brutally thrust in his mouth. The man uttered a muffled gasp of surprise and pleasure and this was too good, Madeleine’s tongue on his cock, his hands in this revered graying hair, and this gasp--

Javert came with a groan, still thrusting raggedly in the mayor’s mouth. Madeleine parted his lips and glanced up at him, with tousled hair, Javert’s spend on his mouth, and such a longing, sweet gaze that the orb in the inspector’s gut throbbed violently once again and his groin burned for more. He lifted Madeleine’s face up to his and snaked his arm around his waist, pressing him against his sweat-covered body. He could not look away from the mayor, from the red of his face to the white of his hair, usually so prim and now falling on his misty eyes, from his bare, flushed cock to their sweat mingling on his chest and throat. Javert had to close his eyes as he leaned in for a hungry kiss. He could taste his own come in Madeleine’s panting mouth. The mayor’s prick was still hard, painfully so it appeared. Javert slid a tentative hand along its curve and his own tongue was not enough to drown away the other man’s cry. 

He propped up Madeleine on his lap, stroking his throbbing cock as he undid the rest of his shirt and slipped it off to join the books and papers on the floor. The man was holding on tight to him and he muffled his rhythmic moans in the folds of Javert’s throat. He kept on kissing and caressing him even as he went numb with lust; his rough hands were never at rest, tugging at the hair on his nape or drawing the line of Javert’s spine when his own arched backwards in pleasure. They eventually moved back to Javert’s arousal and even as Madeleine’s entire body shook with the last throbs of orgasm, he kept lovingly, desperately pleasuring him. 

\---

The Mayor and the Inspector lay sweating, shuddering in each other’s arms, and their gazes were cloudy, as if they had trouble emerging from a long dream. Their ragged breaths appeared strange in the muffled velvet silence of the office.  
Javert stared in disbelief as Madeleine gently, gently wiped the sweat and the come from his chest with a handkerchief, gently buttoned Javert’s shirt back up with the same smile he always had. Maybe there was something more in that smile.

«How can you be so good to me, Monsieur.»  
«Because you deserve it, Javert.»  
«Is that all?»  
«No», murmured Madeleine as he slowly brushed Javert’s hair back into his tame catogan. «I wanted you to stay. I might be a selfish man after all,» he sighed. He pushed Javert’s back towards the door, gently. «Now go, Monsieur. You have duty to attend to.»

Javert stepped out of the room as Madeleine held the large door for him. He lightly staggered and on his face there was a flush, noted the young clerk as he passed by. He looked humbled but all worry was gone from his face. Surely he had not been reprimanded by the Mayor. He was too soft a man for that. Yet he truly had a way of changing those that came troubled to these tall doors.

**Author's Note:**

> After 2 literal years of working on and abandoning this work... Here it is. My First Smut Fic. I have have terrible cases of writer's block, of second-hand embarrassment while rereading, I have put my sweat and blood into making this as sexy as possible. So here you go! I hope you enjoyed it, as usual, don"t hesitate to put your thoughts in the comments.


End file.
